


we're having a baby, my baby and me

by anomalousity



Series: various drabbles [12]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, M/M, they have a kid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-06 00:42:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1838104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anomalousity/pseuds/anomalousity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Steve, I love you, but do that again and I’m going to throttle you,” Bucky grumbles, poking his head out from the pillows.</p><p>Steve just grins at him. “I don’t think you will,” he replies, leaning up to press a wet, sloppy kiss to his lips. “As a matter of fact,” he murmurs, peppering kisses down Bucky’s neck, his chest, his stomach, until he comes to rest before the waistband of his boxers. “I think you might just let me do it again.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	we're having a baby, my baby and me

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in love with I Love Lucy, which is why the title is an allusion to the song Ricky sang when we find out that Lucy is pregnant. Additionally, this isn't really focused on the fact that they have a kid, it's more what life has become as a result of having a kid. Or, it's briefly about what life has become as a result of having a kid, mostly about Steve giving Bucky a blowjob. Also, I'm a seventeen year old girl who has no kids, so please tell me if you want me to adjust anything because I don't really know anything about parenting. 
> 
> Otherwise, I'm at [subbastianstan](http://buckybaarnes.co.vu) on tumblr if you want to request something.

The pencil cracks in Steve’s fist at the sound of screeching.

“Bucky,” he calls, “It’s your turn!”

He turns back to his drawing, grabbing another pencil and dusting the shavings and wood chips from the one he crushed off the paper. He can hear the sound of labored footsteps padding through their apartment, Bucky’s low groan and shushing, the slow quiet of calmed crying.

Kids are hard, but babies are fucking satanic.

Steve and Bucky worked out a schedule; Bucky has the day shift, from nine to seven, and Steve takes the night, from seven to eight the following morning. Of course, it never really took because Bucky’s a sucker whenever Steve pouts and Steve will get up if Bucky is grumpy enough and whiny enough not to. Nat offered to come and babysit to give them their due time for dates and, and Steve quotes, “Your time to rub it out against each other like you’ve been dying to.” Fury is a surprisingly good babysitter, all things considered, and Sam is resigned to any and all duties excepting diaper changes.

Unfortunately, Sarah poops a lot.

He’s sketching out the lines of the Brooklyn landscape, hardly visible from this section of Manhattan, when he hears Bucky’s feet padding back into their bedroom. It’s almost daybreak; the sun is arching up over the skyscrapers leaving shadows bleeding across lower DUMBO. The haze between dusk and dawn is definitely the most beautiful aspect of the morning, but Steve’s usually so damn tired that he doesn’t even bother trying to get the shading just right between the points of melding.

Like now, for instance. He scrubs at his jaw and stretches his arms high above his head before pushing out of his chair and heading towards their bedroom. He can hear the steady rise and fall of Sarah’s breath from the nursery, uninterrupted by whining or the horrible screech she likes to make whenever she feels particularly grumpy. Steve thinks she gets it from Bucky.

He collapses onto the bed face first, knowing that Bucky’s awake and not caring enough about whatever peace he’s managed to muster when he lets his upper body land square on his chest.

“Steve, I love you, but do that again and I’m going to throttle you,” Bucky grumbles, poking his head out from the pillows.

Steve just grins at him. “I don’t think you will,” he replies, leaning up to press a wet, sloppy kiss to his lips. “As a matter of fact,” he murmurs, peppering kisses down Bucky’s neck, his chest, his stomach, until he comes to rest before the waistband of his boxers. “I think you might just let me do it again.”

He tugs off Bucky’s boxers, bars his arm over Bucky’s hips and sucks him down all in one move. Bucky barely even has a chance to thread his fingers through Steve’s hair and scratch at his scalp before Steve’s nosing at his pubic hairs and humming around him.

Bucky’s gasping when he makes the trek back up his dick, tonguing at the frenulum before ducking down and pressing chaste kisses to his balls. Then he’s sucking him down again, grinning, or doing his best impression of a grin with a dick in his mouth, when Bucky’s hips stutter upwards.

It takes a few more bobs before Bucky’s coming down his throat, and Steve can’t bring himself to mind that it took all of three minutes when he climbs back up Bucky’s body and gives him another kiss.

“Get a good sleep?” he asks against Bucky’s jaw.

Bucky just groans out his reply before he’s pushing Steve into the mattress, rocking his hips up against Steve’s. He’s already half hard, though Steve’s got virtually no refractory period either. Different serums still work alike, he supposes. Not that he’s complaining.

He fists his hands in Bucky’s ass, pulling him closer and closer as he feels his balls tighten up and his dick throb. It’s just shy of uncomfortable in his briefs, but he doesn’t care. He just ruts up that much harder until he’s spilling over with a moan and a gasp, sighing into Bucky’s mouth when he pushes a sloppy, open kiss onto Steve’s lips.

When he pulls his underwear off and tosses them into the hamper, he tucks himself back against Bucky’s side.

“Good morning,” he murmurs with a yawn.

Bucky just smirks before kissing his temple. “Sleep well,” he breathes before Steve dozes off.


End file.
